


Dating the System Isn't Very Punk Rock

by flibbertygigget



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anarchism, Community Organizing, Genderfluid Character, HP TransFest 2020, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Transphobia, LGBTQ Themes, Leftist Themes, Other, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Punk, Severus Snape Lives, Swearing, This Machine Kills Fascists, Trans Female Character, Wizarding Politics (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:27:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23173924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flibbertygigget/pseuds/flibbertygigget
Summary: Sheena Snape is an old fart with a chip on her shoulder and a shitty punk band. Sheena Snape is dating the living embodiment of half-assed centrist appeasement. Kingsley Shacklebolt is the head of Magical Britain and not quite the man everything thinks they are. Kingsley Shacklebolt wants to hire their girlfriend for the Ministry-approved LGBT center.It’s 2004, and it seems like Muggles are finally starting to figure this rights thing out while the Magical world stands still. Time to fuck the system figuratively as well as literally.
Relationships: Kingsley Shacklebolt/Severus Snape
Comments: 17
Kudos: 64
Collections: HP TransFest 2020





	Dating the System Isn't Very Punk Rock

**Author's Note:**

> Written for HP TransFest 2020. Prompt in the end notes. Betaed by themadmage.
> 
> If anyone's interested in an absolute mess of queer punk and riot grrrl, I made a playlist for this fic on Spotify [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5hcPC8ZrjFBRpQ3giJvZ3I).

_ Provided we can escape from the museums we carry around inside us, provided we can stop selling ourselves tickets to the galleries in our own skulls, we can begin to contemplate an art which re-creates the goal of the sorcerer: changing the structure of reality by the manipulation of living symbols. Art tells gorgeous lies that come true. _

_ \- Hakim Bey,  _ _ TAZ: The Temporary Autonomous Zone _

_ This Machine Kills Fascists _

_ \- Sticker on Woodie Guthrie's guitar _

Sheena Snape can feel Kingsley’s eyes on her as she shaves her face naked in the bathroom mirror. She shaves the Muggle way, with the ancient straight razor she’d inherited from her useless father. Even though she could easily use magic to remove the stubble from her chin or drink a potion that would mean she’d never have to shave again, it’s more satisfying this way. Her father would’ve had a heart attack if he knew that he’d given her the means to pass a little better, and besides, she loves seeing her dysphoria literally washed down the drain.

“If you could just-”

“No.”

“We need someone who-”

“I said no, Kingsley. If you want ‘someone who’ so badly, do it yourself.”

“You know I can’t do that.” She does know. It was a low blow, even for her. She glances in the mirror and breathes a mental sigh of relief when she sees no glint of gold in her partner’s ear. No earring means it’s a more masculine day, which means that they will be… well, less dysphoric, but also less grumpy overall, which is perfect for her more selfish purposes.

“Fine, you can’t do it. That doesn’t mean I can.”

“Why not?” 

“Two reasons,” she says. “One: I have my own shit going on. Two: I don’t want to, especially not if the Ministry’s going to be involved.”

“I don’t see why,” Kingsley says. “Listen, you’ve been in this… community longer than I have-”

“Yeah, and that’s why I know that your plan is full of shit.”

“-and I believe that an LGBT center that can collaborate and be in conversation with the Ministry is the next logical step forward for us.”

“Do you know why I never listen to you?” Sheena says. “You’re everything that’s wrong with activism. You’re a Sunday-morning anarchist who fucked Adam Smith Saturday night. You fill up your cabinet with the pretty faces of academia and hawk about societally legitimized victims,” she suddenly lets her voice drop to its former silky baritone, “while all the while you know in your heart that you’re barely scratching the surface.” 

“Are you done?” Kingsley says after a short pause.

“Just as long as I’ve made myself clear.”

“Plenty,” they say coolly. “Only you, Sheena, could see an unprecedented step in the right direction as a bad thing.”

“It’s appeasement,” she says, “but it won’t work. You want to give an inch without us taking a mile.” She swings herself up onto the sink, ignoring the way it ominously creaks. “So, what’s the plan?” Kingsley blinks.

“You’ll do it? I thought-”

“I’ll do it,” Sheena says. “I’ve managed to outmaneuver myself. But trust me, it’s not going to go your way. That’s inevitable no matter  _ who _ you put in charge.”

“Fine,” they say, not sounding at all convinced of the inevitable rise of the oppressed (or whatever). “Just… at least try to make this work. I don’t want you putting us back fifty years because you decided to self-sabotage.”

“No promises,” Sheena says with a wolfish grin.

* * *

Kingsley Shacklebolt is not having a good day.

First their budget committee had come back with revisions that took money away from their proposed social programs and toward the ever-nebulous process of “rebuilding” - which, inevitably, concentrated on government and business buildings at the expense of the hundreds of Magicals whose housing was destroyed over the course of the war. Not to mention that the Muggle reparations were proving a burden that most of the government were encouraging them to default on. 

Then the International Wandmaker’s Association had requested a meeting with them. Again. It would have been one thing if the union had wanted to talk about something  _ important _ , but no. It was just another attempt to access the Elder Wand, when they should have been agitating against heartstring tariffs or wandwood legislation, anything that showed the IWA was concerned with their workers instead of their profits.

The last straw, of course, is their dysphoria.

Sheena helps, of course. She always helps. Between suggesting fiddling with their earring as a grounding technique to pointing out that, to Muggles, robes and dresses are the same thing no matter what cut they wear… well, it had been worse before she’d come out to them. It had been far worse. But Sheena getting it doesn’t make up for the fact that no one else does, that Kingsley feels more out of tune with their own skin every time someone refers to them as a  _ wizard _ .

There are no words for whatever they are, not in the Magical world. It’s only because of Sheena that they know how to borrow one of the more fitting words from the Muggles: genderfluid.

“It’s not like the Muggle world is perfect,” Sheena had explained to them. “The majority barely acknowledge that  _ I _ exist. But they are getting better at it, and more quickly than our lot are. The Gender Recognition Act is full of bigoted workarounds and medical essentialist bullshit, but it’s a hell of a lot more than we have in the Magical world. I never thought that I’d prefer  _ them _ , but here we are.”

There are good reasons why they chose Sheena to be the head of the new LGBT center, no matter how much she might complain about being part of the system. There’s no one else they know who understands the issue from both the Magical and Muggle perspectives, and who therefore will be about to help queer Muggleborns and Half-Bloods adjust to the Magical world. There’s no one else they know who is so willing to bluntly speak truth to power and yet stay within the bounds of what is considered respectable. 

And, most importantly, there’s no one else they know who will be willing to say “fuck it” to the rules that will inevitably be put in place by the more traditional members of their cabinet.

* * *

Kingsley had wanted to put off the actual meetings part of this whole LGBT center deal until they had found a permanent place for them, but Sheena had put her foot down. If they didn’t get the ball rolling first, the center would never exist, caught up in the mess of bureaucratic bullshit that would inevitably form around anything new in the Magical world. So the first meeting of those interested in the Center for Queer Magicals is held in Sheena’s kitchen.

“First thing’s first,” she says, looking around at the seven other people who showed up, “we need introductions. Yes, Draco,” because Malfoy had opened his mouth to interrupt her, “I know that everyone knows everyone in Magical Britain, but we don’t want assumptions - about anything. Names, pronouns, sexuality if you feel comfortable with that, and what position you see yourself taking in this thing. I’m Sheena Snape, she/her pronouns, bisexual, and I’ve been fucking drafted.”

“Charming,” says Poppy dryly. Sheena shrugs.

“It’s the truth.”

“Well, I’m Draco Malfoy,” Malfoy says, butting in, “he/him, straight-”

“Then why are you here?” Ginny Weasley snaps.

“Because, if I’m not mistaken, this little group needs the funding and prestige that the Malfoy name can give them,” Malfoy says haughtily. “Besides, it’s Professor Snape. She was my Head of House for ages.” Weasley looks at Sheena expectantly.

“You’re not going to let him-”

“What? Be an ally?”

“Be part of a group like this when he’s a little Death Eater piece of shit!” 

“If he fucks up, he’s out,” Sheena says, “but that goes for everyone. The more, and the more inclusive, the merrier.” Privately, she thinks that Weasley doesn’t quite understand the particular position that Malfoy is placing himself in. It’s only natural; Weasley is young and has a family that’s always been "on the left," for what that's worth in the Magical world. Draco, on the other hand, is saying he’s willing to put the full force of his family’s conservative power and wealth behind a cause that could very well sink their power. She isn’t certain of him, of course. It’s only natural to be suspicious of someone who is so entangled with the existing power structure. But Malfoy is right - they need funding. They also need allies.

“Fine,” Weasley says. “The name’s Ginny Weasley, they/them,” this they say with a challenging look toward Malfoy, but he doesn’t rise to the bait, “sexuality doesn’t apply but I really only like guys-”

“Is she serious?” someone mutters.

“Who said that?” Sheena snaps. Ernie MacMillan stands up from a transfigured armchair in the corner.

“Me. I’m gay and-”

“And that has precisely nothing to do with Weasley. Deal with it or get out.”

“But she’s-”

“ _ They _ have precisely no need for your gender essentialist bullshit. Goodbye.”

“But-”

“Goodbye.”

“Do you even have anyone properly gay here?” Sheena raises an eyebrow at Poppy, who clears her throat.

“Poppy Pomfrey, she/her, lesbian,” she says. “And in the interest of fully answering your introduction, Sheena, I’m willing to contribute to whatever aspects of queer health care we need, though I may ask you to help with some of the more complicated potions. In addition, lesbian and, well, queer women could use a group.”

“Perhaps two groups,” Sheena muses, “one that’s more general, and one that’s for lesbians in particular. It depends on the demand, of course.” MacMillan looks furious, but Sheena doesn’t give him a chance to say anything else. “What are you still doing here? I told you to leave.” He storms out of the room, slamming the door. A moment later, Sheena hears the tell-tale  _ crack _ of Disapparation. 

“Well,” says Poppy, “now that that’s settled.”

“I can’t believe I used to date him,” Terry Boot groans. “I’m Terry, by the way. He/Him, gay, and hopefully not an arse.”

“We’ll see,” says Sheena dryly. She turns to the last two people in the room, two goblins who have been speaking quietly to each other in Gobbledegook throughout the meeting. “And you two?”

“I am Grognak,” says one, “and this is my husband Gorik.”

“Pronouns?”

“We are both male,” Grognak says, “but I was not always male. That is why we were interested in this group. We wish for those besides goblins to acknowledge our marriage and that I am male.”

“Do you have any experience with non-human Magicals besides goblins?” Sheena says.

“Some.”

“Good. I don’t have as much as I should, not if we want this thing to work.” She looks around at the group. It isn’t as large as she would have liked, but it’s a start. “Alright. Let’s get this show on the road.”

* * *

The last thing that Kingsley wants to do is go to a late meeting with the Budget Oversight Committee when their girlfriend’s band is playing, but this is their job and they have to do it. They just wish that it wasn’t so  _ boring _ .

Sheena would have a thing or two to say about that assessment. She’d probably add  _ regressive _ and  _ up their own asses _ to  _ boring _ . And, well, it’s true. It’s all true. What that doesn’t mean is that Kingsley will ever agree with the ideas and methods that Sheena is always shouting out into the void.

Just take her music. It’s loud and fast and abrasive, nothing like the sort of thing that you’d find in the Magical world normally. It really does perfectly reflect Sheena’s personality. But apparently in the Muggle world there’s a tradition of this sort of thing, and true to form the other members of her band are all Muggleborns or Muggles who know about the Magical world. They sing about - well, sex mostly, but also repealing the laws governing Underage Magic and abolishing the ICW and the Statute of Secrecy. 

All of it’s completely crazy and pie in the sky, of course. There is no chance of any of her “anarchist” reforms ever happening, and Kingsley knows for a fact that it would be a complete disaster to even try. Still, while Sheena clings angrily to her ideals and refuses to even consider half measures, Kingsley finds themselves considering those ridiculous dreams of hers something to look towards, to shoot for as utopian but completely unworkable. 

With reservations, of course. They always have reservations.

“She’s just so… extreme,” they’d complained to Minerva once. Minerva McGonagall may not have known about their gender (or lack thereof), but she did know Kingsley as a person, and she was one of the few people willing to listen to their occasional gripes with Sheena and the system. In good faith, even, which was even rarer. Too many people seem to feel the need to point out what Sheena used to present as, as if Kingsley should be having second thoughts. Like Sheena would ever let them get away with that.

“She’s always been like that,” Minerva had pointed out. “You knew about her past from the start.”

“Yes, but this is different,” they had said. “It’s as if - I don’t disagree with her, not exactly, but does she really have to call for some kind of  _ revolution _ ? Revolution is the last thing the Magical world needs at this point, not after all the harm Voldemort did.”

“You think her kind of revolution is the same as Voldemort’s?”

“Of course not,” Kingsley had said a bit too defensively for comfort. Minerva had sipped her tea. “It’s nothing like that. Voldemort wanted to enslave Muggles; Sheena wants to live with them openly. Voldemort wanted to hurt Muggleborns and Half-Bloods; Sheena wants to go in a direction that embraces their experiences more fully. If anything, she makes the old Dumbledore camp look, well, old.”

“And that annoys you?” Kingsley had taken a long time to think of an answer to that.

“It scares me,” they’d said at last. “I don’t - I don’t  _ disagree _ , not really, but I’m worried. I worry that she’ll do something stupid and get in over her head with the ICW or - or something, and then where would we be?” Minerva had snorted.

“Sheena managed to keep her true allegiance from everyone, including those who knew her best and a Dark Wizard with direct access to her mind. She might be acting revolutionary for now, but she knows how to play the political game.”

“That’s just the thing, I don’t think she’s interested in doing that.”

“And I can’t say I’m surprised,” Minerva had said. “A word from the wise, Kingsley? Don’t ask her to go against her better judgement unless you absolutely feel you have to. She’s had enough of doing that during the wars.”

The last committee member has finally droned to a stop, and Kingsley can feel the other members readying themselves to leave. Before they can do more than gather up their parchments, they straighten up in their chair and clear their throat.

“One more thing,” they say. “We’ve talked much about allocating funds to various efforts to rebuild the businesses and homes affected by the war, as well as expanding our support for underfunded departments and offices such as Misuse of Muggle Artifacts and the Beast, Being and Spirit Divisions. But what we have not discussed is the possibility of providing governmental support to organizations outside of the purview of the Ministry itself.” A few of the committee members grumble, though whether because of the proposition itself or just because they want to go home is unclear. “I do not demand an answer tonight, obviously, but I would like for you all to consider this over the weekend and come back Monday with your opinions on the proposal.”

“Why would we need to provide funding outside the Ministry?” Alberta Candleheap says. “If the service is needed, surely the witch or wizard could go through the proper Ministry channels? This would be most irregular for the Ministry.”

“If I may remind you, Hogwarts, for the most part, operates completely independently of the Ministry and is supported to the tune of 20,000 Galleons per year. There is precedent. In addition, there is something to be said for  _ not _ keeping everything in house.”

“Why?” Candleheap says, though she sounds less combative and more honestly curious now.

“It is my opinion,” Kingsley says carefully, “that Voldemort’s grip on the Magical world was greatly strengthened by the hesitation and lack of action present in the previous administration. Worse, when he took over, it was all too easy for him to co-opt the structures in place for his own ends, which ultimately led to the death of many Muggleborns and anti-Voldemort dissenters. Having strong organizations and institutions outside of the Ministry would make it more difficult for us to be undermined from the inside and would provide structure in the unlikely event of a future fall into Darkness.” The committee members seem open to the idea now, with some even nodding along.

“But how would the Ministry decide which organizations to fund?” Waldorf Peacock says skeptically. “The last thing we want is to legitimize the wrong sort.” Kingsley knows that their idea of the “wrong sort” is quite different from Peacock’s, but it is a valid concern that will have to be faced in the future.

“Nothing has to be set in stone immediately,” they say placatingly. “I was considering a semi-independent board to look over applications for grants and funding, but approving the idea and deciding its scope would be the first step. All I’m asking is for you all to consider the idea and come back Monday with some ideas of how we could potentially move forward.”

As the committee files out, more thoughtful than they had been originally, Kingsley allows themselves a small, slightly smug grin. The ball has been set in motion, and with it the potential for Sheena’s project to have an influential voice in Ministry politics. This is the best way forward, of that they have no doubt.

* * *

After the first few meetings had hammered out some rough structure and roles for the new Center for Queer Magicals, Sheena could have drawn a little cartoon picture of the rest of the group hitting a wall. It’s all well and good to talk about starting something, but it’s another thing entirely to actually go through with it. Half their hesitation, Sheena thinks, is that they don’t know what the next steps should even be, and half of it is that they’re bloody terrified. She can’t do anything about their fear, can’t even deny the worm of nervousness that’s always been and always will be in the pit of her stomach, but she can take charge and order them around until the structure of the thing becomes a bit more clear.

As far as Sheena is concerned, they won’t be able to do shit without being loud.

It’s a risk, and it’s probably a risk that Kingsley would disapprove of. Like she doesn’t realize that, like she hasn’t taken all that into account before making the decision to break the whole thing open in the most public way possible under the circumstances. As she keeps having to constantly remind them, she’s lived in the Magical world, too. More than that, she’s lived in the Muggle world, and for the longest time the Muggle world was far, far worse for queers than the Magical one. 

She suspects that the severity - and the  _ publicity _ of that severity - is part of what forced the Muggle world to shape up while the Magical world stands shock-still. Well, that and AIDS. The impact of  _ that _ had never been as far-reaching in the Magical world, and when it did crop up it was far more associated with Muggles than with queer men and trans women. She should know; she’d been a Death Eater at the height of that bit of unsavory rhetoric. It still makes her sick to retrace the paths her thoughts had so easily carved in those days.

The point is, AIDS and the public’s reaction (or lack thereof) had kickstarted so many things in the Muggle world. That, more than anything else, makes her know that this isn’t the time for incrementalism, for diplomacy and compromise. This is the time to stand up and fucking fight for it, because this is the time when the Magical world is settling but not yet healed, when the cracks in the surface of their traditional bullshit can be exploited or wriggled through or, best of all, torn at with tooth and nail until it’s been peeled back and exposed as the regressive, reductive crock of shite it is.

Weasley and Malfoy get into another shouting match when she presents her plan, which can be boiled down to “carpet-bomb the Magical world until everyone even remotely interested would be  _ forced _ to remember their name.” It’s the most predictable thing on Earth, really: he thinks that they should go more slowly for the sake of decorum, they say something disparaging about where so-called decorum got them in the last war. 

Sheena comes down on Weasley’s side, but she stays silent for the sake of not accidentally turning the damn thing into a dictatorship. She hadn’t even known that there weren’t just the two genders until relatively recently, after all, so while she likes to think that she’s finally doing  _ something _ right… well, she’s not all-knowing or infallible. She’s an old bitch with too many iron-clad beliefs, and letting Weasley and Malfoy wear themselves out is one way of forcing herself to question one or two of them.

“I don’t doubt the need for some degree of publicity,” Poppy says slowly when order has been somewhat restored. “I am… hesitant, however. What if the reactions are more than disparaging-”

“Bigoted, you mean,” Terry Boot says unhelpfully.

“- but actively violent? Perhaps a degree of caution wouldn’t be unwarranted.”

“That’s always a risk,” Sheena says with a shrug, “but it’s not like we’re going to be giving out names and addresses, not when we’re still meeting in my kitchen. We’ll simply be publicizing a method of getting in contact with our group as a whole. From there we can get people in contact with the help that they need or invite them to meetings on a case-by-case basis.”

“And how are you proposing that they contact the group?” Poppy says knowingly. Sheena rolls her eyes, ignoring the way that the kids who weren’t in Slytherin stare at her. Having no ties to anybody (except Kingsley, of course) means that she doesn’t have to give a fuck about decorum.

“Fine, we will have to publicize  _ a _ name. Just for the owls, mind you. And, yes, I was going to do it myself, but I know how to scan mail for curses and such. It makes sense.”

“Not when you’re still getting death threats for being a spy,” Malfoy grumbles.

“Death threats?” Boot says.

“What did you expect? I was a fucking  _ great _ spy.” Poppy opens her mouth to argue, but Sheena puts up a hand to stop her. “No, no more arguments. Unless you’re volunteering to be the person to contact - No, scratch that, not even then. I’m the one with the most knowledge about the bullshit that could arise, and that means that letting one of you be the initial contact would be reprehensible all around.”

“Really, Professor?” Malfoy says. “We’re not kids.”  _ We’re veterans of the worst Magical war since Grindelwald, just like you _ is the unspoken bit, but Sheena waves away his concern.

“Besides,” she says, “I’m living with the Minister of Magic half the time. If you don’t think there’s a hell of a lot of security  _ there _ , you’re crazy.”

* * *

_ THE  _ **_CENTER FOR QUEER MAGICALS_ ** _ OFFERS _

  * _Support for ALL QUEER MAGICALS, **HUMAN** and **NON-HUMAN**_


  * **MEDICAL MAGIC** for QUEER, TRANS, and NON-BINARY persons


  * MUGGLEBORN and HALFBLOOD **CULTURAL SERVICES**


  * **THERAPY** , both MAGICAL and MUGGLE


  * **COMMUNITY** and **SUPPORT GROUPS** for **QUEERS OF ALL STRIPES**



_ PRIVACY  _ **_GUARANTEED_ ** _. VOLUNTEERS  _ **_WANTED_ ** _. ALL  _ **_WELCOME_ ** _. _

_ CONTACT  _ **_SHEENA SNAPE_ ** _ (yes, that one) BY OWL FOR DETAILS. _

* * *

Kingsley Shacklebolt rolls their earring between their fingers as their girlfriend performs the last of at least fifteen complicated spells on the latest batch of mail. If they open their mouth, they aren’t sure whether they’ll start screaming or break down into a complete panic attack. Sheena says that it’s their own fault, that she’d  _ said _ they were free to ask her to stop staying the night, but Kingsley had been more inclined to insist on the opposite.

That doesn’t make watching her go through her checks - the same checks they  _ know  _ she’d done on her mail during the war and in the immediate aftermath - any easier.

“Don’t look at me like that, Kingsley,” Sheena says, and Kingsley jumps.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re about to tell me to stop. It’s not going to happen.”

“You didn’t even want to do this, any of this,” they say. “Don’t tell me that stopping is some kind of impossibility.”

“First off, it’s a little too late for second guessing. My name’s out there, not that it wasn’t before, and now it’s connected with actual action instead of just existing. Second,” she stows away her wand and flops onto the sofa, “I was questioning your methods when I said ‘no.’ This? This is something else entirely.”

“I’d been hoping to get the Center Ministry support before going public,” Kingsley says, sitting down next to her. She’s begun sorting through the mail now, a process that they’ve seen dozens of times now but that never ceases to impress them. Sheena’s gotten it down to almost a science at this point, deciding which of the other members should deal with the various problems and issues presented by their… clients isn’t the right word, but they can’t think of a better one.

“That was never going to happen,” she says, only half paying attention to them. “Without force behind us, we can’t hope to make the Magical establishment listen. We have to grow before we can completely rewrite the system.” One of the letters seems to break her rhythm.

“What is it?” Sheena glances over at them and gives a sudden, shaky laugh.

“This is a new one,” she says. They half expect her to throw it into the fire like all the other abusive, bigoted letters she gets, but she seems to be instead shifting forward on the sofa, reading it more closely than they’ve ever seen her read on the first pass through the mail.

“What is it?” they ask again.

“It’s an interview request,” she says at last. “Luna Lovegood has been trying to turn the Quibbler from a tabloid into an actual source of news - and one that  _ isn’t _ controlled by the Ministry. She doesn’t have a concrete mission or ideological point of view as far as what I’ve seen, but…” She hesitates. “The Quibbler  _ has _ been becoming more influential, especially among the sort of people who were failed by the Ministry over the course of the war. If Lovegood wants to interview someone from the Center, that could indicate her going in an actual direction.”

“A good direction, as far as we’re concerned,” Kingsley says. “This is exactly what I’ve been trying to push for with encouraging a system for funding independent groups outside the Ministry. Diverse points of view will hold the Ministry itself accountable and prevent anything like Voldemort’s takeover from happening again. This proves that the idea is viable, even outside just funding the Center!”

“Are you a complete imbecile?” Sheena snaps. Kingsley stares at her uncomprehendingly, the abrupt change in their girlfriend’s mood akin to whiplash.

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t honestly think that having the lot of us beholden to the Ministry is a  _ good  _ thing. That’s absurd!”

“The independent groups wouldn’t be  _ beholden _ . If anything, the Ministry would be obligated to listen and answer to outside points of view-”

“Fuck’s sake, I never knew you were such an idealist.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing-”

“They’ll use the damn funding to control us, Kingsley,” Sheena says. Kingsley opens their mouth, but Sheena cuts them off before they can get a word out. “No, listen to me. This is why I never wanted to fucking work within the system. You think you can change things from the inside, and maybe you can. Maybe you can legislate the hell out of all the reforms you dream of, maybe you can convince all the hidebound traditionalists that they should stop poisoning the Magical world the way they always have. Maybe you can, but I’m not convinced. I think you’ll compromise, I think you’ll say ‘good enough’ after being given a fucking inch, and we don’t need the kind of change that puts a new coat of whitewash over the rot and then fucking stays that way for the  _ next _ two hundred years.”

“Sheena, that’s not what I’m advocating for,” they say. “I’m trying to help support you, you and every other organization that helps where the Ministry can’t.”

“Can’t, or won’t?” Sheena says. “Look, spare me your support, the whole reason this has to be done in the first place is because the support  _ isn’t fucking there _ .”

“Then what would you have me do? Let the Ministry go on as it has been and have us be as blind as before? That’s what allowed Voldemort to take over in the first place!”

“You’re the damn system, Kingsley! If you want to listen to outside points of view, listen to outside points of view. Do it  _ now _ , do it  _ actively _ , just don’t make complete fucking control a prerequisite for a seat at the fucking table.”

“That isn’t what this is about.”

“Maybe not to you,” Sheena says, though it sounds like less of a concession than it should. “Maybe you are advocating for this with all the best intentions. But you are hopelessly naive if you think this won’t be exploited to hell and back.”

“It’s about having the right people appointed.”

“And the definition of ‘the right people’ is going to be completely defined by the current bullshit power structure. Even if you can control these first appointments, you’re still creating a microcosm of the current system. Do you really want to be responsible for state-mandated manipulation of all future social movements?”

“So, what, you think that charitable donations from whatever arseholes have enough money to buy a revolution is any better?” Kingsley says, finally losing their temper.

“I  _ don’t fucking know _ , okay?” Sheena snaps. “All I know is that your way is fucked in ways even a complete moron could see, and that I’m going to do this damn interview.”

* * *

After “The Argument” (and it is “The Argument,” capitalized letters and quote-unquotes included, at least in her mind), Sheena throws herself into the Center for Queer Magicals. Elsewhere, because she isn’t interested in anything Kingsley has to say right now. If there was ever a move to convince her that they didn’t understand what was at stake, what was being built on a foundation of damn near nothing, then it was trying to get the Center under Ministry control.

Oh, she knows that it “wasn’t like that,” not in her partner’s mind at least. But she’s seen things that “weren’t like that” before - her father “wasn’t like that,” Hogwarts “wasn’t like that,” even the fucking Dark Lord “wasn’t like that,” not at first. But bullshit reveals itself sooner or later, no matter how people who consider themselves better than you assure you that it “wasn’t like that.” She’s done listening to them, has been done listening to them since she threw on some eyeliner and stopped giving half a shit what either world, Muggle or Magical, thought about her.

She knows plenty of people, people she used to respect, who don’t want anything to do with her now. She knows even more people who she cut off because she recognized how their poison had been sinking in. If Kingsley is one of those people, well, she won’t pretend it doesn’t hurt. She still has too much self-respect now to allow them to shipwreck her life.

Not to mention that there’s more at stake than just her comfort now. The Center for Queer Magicals, small though it is, has already done so much. She’s already brewing several Transition Elixirs for Poppy, and Weasley and Boot have been slowly putting together in-person support groups. Grognak and Gorik have been putting her in contact with a number of Beings who are interested in participating, all who have their unique cultures and needs. Gorik, who is apparently rather highly placed at Gringotts, has also opened a secondary vault in her name, which can be used as a company vault without the attendant company dues owed to Gringotts. When she had asked whether this would get the Center in trouble in the future, Gorik had just laughed.

“Company vaults are for those who work against the goblins and are subject to your Ministry laws,” he had said. “Secondary vaults opened in this way are subject to Goblin Law.”

“I can’t say I’m all that familiar with Goblin Law,” Sheena had said.

“Do not worry. I will act as the Center’s representative. Besides, as a Place of the Common Good, many of the more complex clauses - those humans would call trickery - do not apply to you.” Sheena had privately resolved right then and there to find a reliable book on Goblin Law. “You need a place to keep the currency you gather for the Common Good, after all.”

“True enough,” Sheena had said.

That’s the most mind-boggling thing. She hadn’t said anything about money on the posters, since the last thing she wants is for something like this to be converted into a luxury under capitalism. And yet send money people did, sometimes in quite frankly ridiculous amounts. She’d even gotten a few Muggle checks and pound notes, which suggested that some cooperation with the rapidly changing Muggle world might, in fact, be happening. Nonetheless, she’d been hesitant to accept donations at first, until Weasley and Malfoy, of all people, had ganged up on her.

“Don’t be stupid,” Weasley had said when Sheena had floated the idea of sending the donations back. “If we ever get a physical location, we’re gonna have to pay rent, and donations will help with that. The last thing the Center needs is to be beholden to Malfoy. No offense.” They had said that last bit with a complete and total lack of sincerity that made Malfoy roll his eyes.

“Besides,” he’d said, “potions ingredients, medical magic, and private meeting spaces are expensive. The fact that the people who see the posters realize that means that they’re invested in making this thing work. More investment means greater power, and not just financial power.”

“This shouldn’t be about that,” Sheena had grumbled.

“About what? Power?” Malfoy had scoffed. “Everything’s about power, Professor. You, of all people, should know that. Besides, this is about changing the Magical world, isn’t it? You need all the power you can get for that.”

Sheena isn’t sure even now. About accepting the donations, and about changing the Magical world as a whole. She talks big game, but the deeper she gets into this the more she realizes that it’d always seemed to be just that - talk. She’d never expected it to go any further. Maybe that was part of the reason why she’d responded so vehemently to Kingsley’s proposals. Not only would taking Ministry funding mean submitting the Center to a certain degree of Ministry control (and she’s still 100% opposed to  _ that _ ), it would also mean taking on a… responsibility. An obligation.

The idea makes her squeamish. She knows, she  _ knows _ that this is nothing like the myriad other obligations that she’s taken on over the course of her life, and yet the idea of having that… it sucks. It really, really sucks, and she’s not sure whether she even has the right to say that it sucks, not after everything.

“Am I too old for this?” she asks Poppy one night after showing up to her quarters in Hogwarts with two bottles of wine. Poppy had let her in with no grumbling whatsoever, which meant that Sheena probably looks about as shit as she feels.

“What do you mean?” Poppy says.

“I mean… Vision. I think I might be fucking it up.” She takes a larger gulp than should be taken of rather nice wine. “I mean, the kids… they sound like they know where they’re going. And I thought I did, but now I just don’t know.”

“Is this about your… issues with Kingsley?”

“No!”

“You know that, even if the two of you disagree, he adores you.”

“They,” Sheena says. Then, “Fuck!”

“I take it I wasn’t supposed to…”

“Dick move to out someone like that. I’m a complete fucking dunderhead.”

“You are quite drunk,” Poppy says primly. “I’m sure h- they’ll forgive you.”

“I’ve been avoiding them,” Sheena says miserably. “They’re trying to make the Ministry fund shit, they’re wrong, but… Fuck, I miss them.”

“You do realize that you can disagree with people without completely cutting them out of your life, don’t you?” Poppy says. Sheena shivers. “As for the funding… I don’t know all the details, but there may be a middle ground.”

“They said that getting funding from the Ministry would be better than being controlled by rich assholes. They’re not right, but they’re also not wrong. It’s a fucking problem. I may trust Malfoy, sort of, but it’s not sustainable.” She pauses, staring into the fire as though the answers to all her problems could somehow be Flooed through the flames. “I’d say fuck it, go grassroots, but…”

“But people are already depending on the Center. For community, like we originally planned, but also for medical care,” Poppy says. “It is a problem.” Sheena heaves a reluctant sigh.

“I need to talk with Kingsley, don’t I?”

“You need options, and Kingsley is the Minister of Magic.”

“The Ministry doesn’t give a shit about the queer community. We can’t let them take over the direction of the Center. They’ll pull it, well,  _ center _ , and then it’ll be worse than useless.”

“The Ministry may not care, but Kingsley does.” Poppy leans over and squeezes Sheena’s shoulder. “Trust them. Trust that, even if you don’t agree with them completely, they’ll respect you and the Center enough to not sabotage either.”

“It’s worth a shot,” Sheena says.

* * *

The last thing Kingsley expects to see when they get home from work is their girlfriend curled up next to the fireplace, frowning and fingerpicking at an acoustic guitar.  _ D, G, B, e, B, G, B. _ They recognize the song, but only in the vague way that tells them it's something that Sheena had shown them. It doesn’t sound like what she usually plays.

_ I’m gonna watch the bluebirds fly _ _  
_ _ over my shoulder. _ _  
_ _ I’m gonna watch them pass me by, _ _  
_ _ maybe when I’m older. _ __  
_ What do you think I’d see _ _  
_ _ if I could walk away from me? _

Her voice is soft and almost hesitant, a far cry from the throaty scream that she uses in her band. She also sounds horribly, exhaustedly sorrowful. Kingsley clears their throat, and she looks up from her guitar almost guiltily.

“Kingsley,” she says. “I-” She looks down at the guitar as though she’s seeing it for the first time.

“What was that you were singing?” they ask. Sheena gives them a forced, fake smile.

“The Velvet Underground, ‘Candy Says.’ It’s from their third album, the self-titled one, 1969…” She trails off, as though running out of music trivia has made her run out of words as well. Kingsley hesitates, unsure of what to say to her when she seems so opened up and strangely vulnerable. She’s never seemed vulnerable before.

“I’m sorry,” Kingsley says at last. “I’m - You were right. I still think that the Ministry should have a system to offer funding to outside organizations, but you were right that it comes with an… implication.”

“It’s alright for groups that fill in the gaps,” Sheena says softly. “That - That point things out, but that are ideologically in step with the Ministry program. The Center isn’t like that, though, especially with the way the young ones are pushing it. They want it to change  _ everything _ .”

“I thought that was what you wanted to do as well.”

“So did I,” Sheena says. “I think… Maybe I’m not there yet. But the revolution is coming, ready or not, and I’d rather be part of it in  _ some _ capacity than standing still.”

“Like the Ministry is,” Kingsley says. She looks up at them. “I understand.”

“I think I’ve found a place,” Sheena says. “It’s, well, it’s probably not what you envisioned. We’ll need Ministry permission to extend the Leaky Cauldron’s anti-Muggle wards to cover the storefront next to it. And a few more restricted spells.”

“You don’t want to be in Diagon itself?”

“It’s too vulnerable. If we have a physical space that’s semi-visible to Muggles, the MLE will have a reason to give a shit if we ever get attacked.”

“Do you really think it’ll go that far?” Sheena looks at them like they’re a complete idiot.

“I think that there are some Magicals who’ll take any excuse to hurt people they consider worthy of being hurt,” she says. “And I should fucking know.”

“Right,” they say. “I’ll… see about encouraging them to accept your request.” They pause. “And after that?” Sheena sighs.

“I don’t know,” she says. “Expanding the current services is the number one priority right now, of course, but more radical goals are already being discussed. Grognak and Gorik are eager to update the Being laws to include Ministry recognition of culturally influenced gender identities and sexualities, and Weasley and Malfoy are already talking about the next steps to take politically on the human side of things.”

“I thought you wanted nothing to do with the Ministry.”

“I still don’t,” she says. “I still think the current system’s rotten to the core and that the best thing to do would be to abolish the ICW and allow for common sense Magical-Muggle interaction. That doesn’t mean that good work can’t be done in the here and now.”

“So my reformist tendencies have started to rub off on you,” Kingsley teases. Sheena snorts.

“Hardly. I’m just not against using the system for our own ends.” Their heart feels lighter than it has since their argument, the one that ended with Sheena walking out the door.

“Our ends?” they say. Sheena smiles, and this time it’s the most truthful thing they’ve ever seen.

“Close enough for now.”

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 180
> 
> Severus Snape/Kingsley Shacklebolt 
> 
> The war didn't change the entrenched prejudices and isms of the wizarding world. Two unlikely former warriors find themselves in a new battle as they attempt to start a collective in order to open a LGBTQ Center. Trans! Snape (MTF) and Genderfluid Kingsley. Snape is in therapy and working on being and doing better. Kingsley is also in therapy working on issues. I'd also like to see house elf abolition be part of the story
> 
> I know I didn't hit every point, but I hope that I captured the spirit of the prompt alright :)


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